Title: Graceless Turns
Author: Eloria (Nomad_Eloria@hotmail.com)
Rating: PG for homosexuality
Archive: If you really want to, go right ahead!
Feedback: Offlist/Onlist, either.
Summary: Neville and Ginny go to the Yule Ball, but first he tells her something very important. Goes along with the "Does He Have A Heart?" series. (Homosexuality)
Disclaimer: Not mine, and JK might be disturbed with what I've done to poor Neville!
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Graceless Turns
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"Ginny, before you accept, there's something I need to tell you. I-" he closed his eyes, took a steadying breath. "I hope that it won't make any difference to you, but if, if it does, then I..." Neville paused, frowned, shook his head. He scribbled out the line with his quill, and muttered under his breath. "No, no, not right. She might not even accept, you lunkhead!""
"I've been keeping something from you, from everyone really, and I think I need to tell you now." He nodded to himself a little. "I'll understand if you no longer want to be friends, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone else."
He bowed his head a little, set down the quill. His hand had been shaking and spreading drops of ink everywhere and he figured this to be a bad sign.
"Why am I doing this?" He whispered to himself. "I should just, just go alone." He gave a sour little laugh. "It's what everyone expects anyway. Don't want to disappoint them, now do we?"
"Disappoint who?" A little voice said from behind him. He lurched out of the chair and whirled around. Ginny Weasley stood there, looking at him with surprise. One hand clenched her bathrobe shut, the other was awkwardly outstretched towards him. Her hair was slightly mused and sticking out at all angles. She looked at him, her soft eyes filled with concern.
"Your Gran again?" She asked.
"What?" He stammered.
"You were talking about disappointing someone, your Gran?"
"I, er, yes, her, too." Puzzled, she gestured that he should take his chair. She sat across the small table.
"I heard Ron muttering about that test Snape's giving. Is that what has you worried?" She murmured, stretching out a hand to pluck up one of the sheets of parchment on the table. He hurriedly gathered them all up, clutching them to his chest. Ginny gave him another odd look and he smiled weakly.
"I really should be studying for it." He agreed.
"You're not?" Ginny seemed surprised. She gestured to the papers in his arms. "So what's got you sitting down here when everyone else is in bed?"
"Just writing a letter." He muttered, hating the blush creeping up his cheeks.
"To who?"
"Um, y-you." He stuttered. If anything, no one could accuse him of dishonesty.
"Me?" She spluttered. "But I'm right here!"
"Yes." He agreed, not wanting to say that was the problem.
"Well, why don't you just tell me?" Ginny demanded, exasperated. He wiggled uncomfortably in his chair.
"I... well, I, I wanted to practice a bit."
"Practice?" Utter disbelief. "What do you need to *practice* saying to me?"
"Um," Was it possible for him to blush even more? Apparently so. "Why don't I just finish the letter and then give it to you?" He suggested.
"I'd really like it if you just told me." She said, perhaps a bit frostily.
He sighed. Where was his Gryffindor bravery now? He should just ask her, and then, if she accepted, he would tell her. If she said no, there was no reason she needed to know. Well, except that she was his best friend. Except that they told each other everything. Except- ahrg! Just say it!
"Ginny, do you want to go to the ball?" He said it so softly it was hard to hear. She gaped at him.
"What?" He didn't say anything. "I thought you were going to ask Hermione!"
"She's going with someone else."
"WHAT?" Ginny goggled. He gestured for her to lower her voice.
"I asked," Neville explained, "But she said she was going with someone."
"Oh." She blinked, looked down at the table top, then looked back up at him. "Why'd you ask me, then?"
"Because you're my friend." He had thought it obvious, and was tempted to roll his eyes. "And I know you really wanted to go."
"Oh." The silence drew on and on. If only she'd just say yes or no and stop drawing out this agony! Abruptly, she asked,
"Just your friend?"
He hadn't been expecting that. That treacherous, cowardly part of him wished that she would just say no, and they could both go back to how things had been. His mouth was so dry, he was sure there was a small desert in there. A few rapid breaths, to build his courage.
"Ginny. Ginny, I won't *ever* be anything but your friend. I," Words flashed through his mind, most of them vulgar. He could only think of a few decent names for it and those names frightened him. They were, a, a label of sorts. He'd had enough of those. "I just don't look at girls that way." She gasped, getting his point right away.
"You, Neville, you're g-gay?" He felt his breath catch in his chest and nodded, looking down at the tabletop, unaware of how desperately he was clutching the papers to his chest.
"Oh." Her voice shook a little, and a faint blush stained her cheeks.
"Look Ginny, I'm sorry, I just, I just wanted to make sure you knew that I'm not interested in that way. I mean, you're my friend, you're my best friend, and you're nice and all. I'm sure that you've got all kinds of admirers, but I don't, I won't, think about you as anything other than, than a friend. I 'm really sorry, I just..." he realized he was stammering and stood quickly. "I'll just go then."
"Neville, wait, what are you leaving for?" She stood, too.
"I thought, I thought you wouldn't want me around." He hung his head a little, unable to meet her gaze.
"Don't be silly, Nev, just sit back down, will you? I just need a minute to digest this."
"All right." He thumped heavily into the chair he had just vacated.
"Why'd you ask us, me and Hermione, if you're um, gay?" She blurted, then covered her mouth with her hands. "I'm sorry that was really rude, I-"
"No, no it's fine, really." She was taking this much better than he had expected. The least he could do was answer one question. "I um, asked, Hermione because, well, she'd been really nice to me. Helped me out with Potions and classes, and well," he leaned back in the chair, staring at some point in space over his head. "I didn't think anyone else would. Not that nobody would want to take her or anything, just that they might not ask. I would have told her, too, if she'd said yes. And you," he looked at her. "Well, we're friends, Gin, and I-"
"So it's not like, not like you're hiding, right?" She blushed furiously. "I mean, I don't think I'd want to go if that's the only reason you asked."
"Hiding?" He repeated, puzzled.
"You know," she gestured vaguely with one hand. "To um, make people think that..."
"I'm normal. Oh." He blushed, again, just when the last had faded. "I wouldn't do that to you, or her!"
"I believe you, really I do." Ginny assured him. "But isn't there anyone, er, male? I mean, that's who'd *I'd* think to go with if I was you." He laughed nervously, relaxing his death grip on the papers.
"Do you really think Dumbledore would let something like that happen here?" Neville frowned and held up a hand as she tried to talk. "If Prof. Lupin had to leave because of what he is, and he was the best we've had, then what do you think parents would say about someone like me?" He whispered, flicking a nervous glance at the boys' stairs. "I don't want them all to hate me."
"Prof. Dumbledore *hired* Prof. Lupin, Neville. He doesn't see anything wrong with being different."
"Well, if not him, then one of the other professors. Snape, he doesn't like me much as is, and I can't imagine him being any nicer once he found out. And... Malfoy." Neville shuddered at the thought.
"Oh." Ginny said quietly. She hadn't really thought that far ahead. "I think I can understand now. I would really like to go with you to the dance."
"Really?" He asked, surprised.
"Of course." She playfully slapped at his shoulder. "I'd never get invited any other way." He tensed slightly.
"If you're still thinking about Harry, then I, I could maybe drop a hint at him for you, or-"
"Don't." Ginny told him firmly. "That was just a silly crush." She blushed a little.
"Have you really..." he trailed off, uncertain. This didn't seem to be exactly as he remembered her pining over Harry. "Someone else?" He suggested. She nodded a little and he grinned at her. "Who?"
"Colin." More blushing.
"Really?"
"He's cute." Ginny said, almost defensively. An idea came to her and her eyes sparkled with mischief. Anyone who saw would have been greatly reminded of her twin brothers. "Neville," she almost purred. "Now we can talk all about boys!" He blushed a furious red, almost achieving the famed Weasley color but not quite. His cheeks had never burned as much as they had this night.
"What!"
"Oh, come on! I'm curious! I mean," she wrinkled her nose in puzzlement. "What do you think about the guys here?"
"Gin!" He exclaimed, sinking deeper into his seat.
"Okay, okay, I won't ask. But... let's make a promise," she grinned mischievously. "I'll tell you all about my first kiss and you'll tell me all about yours."
"I haven't ever-" he protested.
"But I know you will one day, and I want to know all the details." Her eyes glittered dangerously. "That's the price of my silence, Nev. All you've got to do is promise..." He sighed and reluctantly swore. She stood and threw her arms around him in an exuberant hug.
"I'm glad you could get this off your chest." She muttered and he patted her back awkwardly.
"Thanks for, well, not freaking out." Ginny smiled a little as she released him.
"How could I, Nev? You're my best friend! But we better both get back to bed before someone comes down. Heaven knows what kind of rumors it could start." He laughed.
"G'night then." The papers from earlier became a neat stack that he threw into the fire with a wink at Ginny. She waved at him, strolling calmly to the stairs. He stood for a moment, making sure the unfinished letters burned.
"Oh, and Neville?" She looked back down the stairs, over her shoulder at him and he looked up at her. "It'll be just you and me, right? No Trevor?"
"Of course." He smiled at her. "But I still don't understand why you don't like him, Ginny."
"It's just... he seems kind of, well, like he knows a lot more than you'd think a toad would." Neville shrugged.
"Well, Great-Uncle Algie was reluctant to say where he got him, but he's just a toad, Ginny." She made a small noise of disagreement and disappeared. He stood for a moment, feeling oddly giddy. He had actually told someone what he realized long ago and hadn't been hated for it. It felt like an iron band, wrapped around his chest, had suddenly broken. With a little smile, he hurried upstairs. If he had any luck at all, he still had a little time to study for his Potions test.
Looking utterly miserable, Ginny slumped into a seat beside Neville. He looked at her curiously, fork dangling limply from his fingers as he did.
"What's the matter?"
"Ron." She sighed. "He didn't know I was going to the dance with you, and he suggested I go with Harry-"
"Oh." Neville nodded. "All right then. I was thinking of maybe going out to Greenhouse 3 and repotting a few Flying Francescas if something like this happened and-"
"Neville," she frowned at him. "I didn't say I was going with him! And it can't be good for you to spend all your time with plants."
"Why not?" He asked defensively.
"Because you don't spend enough time with people as it is." He shot a guilty look around him at his fellow Gryffindors. "Hey!" Ginny exclaimed, an idea brewing in her mind. "Do you fancy any of the Gryffindors? Is that why you're staying away from Ron and Harry and the rest?"
"What?" He burst out. "No!"
"So why is it then?" She continued relentlessly.
"It's just... Ron and Harry are such good friends, and Dean and Seamus are too, I don't want to intrude."
"So... Who do you like? And don't try to bluff me out, Nev." The girl had a one-track mind! He took a deep breath and mumbled something.
"What?"
"Justin. He's... nice."
"Finch-Fletchley? The Hufflepuff?" She exclaimed.
"Shhh!" He blushed, catching Fred and George throwing funny looks their way. They turned away, whispering, and Neville fidgeted. Who knew what those two were up to?
"Is he?" Ginny arched a brow.
"What? How would I know! I've only worked with him in Herbology a few times!"
"I just thought you might have asked." He tried not to faint.
"No, I have not!"
"Okay, okay, don't get so upset! I was just wondering."
"Well, wonder quietly will you?" Ginny chuckled but nodded.
"What are you wearing to the Ball?" She asked, suddenly.
"My dress robes, what else?" Neville replied, puzzled.
"I mean what color are they?"
"Dark grey." He made a face. "Gran said they made me look more dignified."
"Hmm." Ginny mused, tapping a spoon on the table. "I think it'll be ok."
"What?"
"*My* robes!"
"Oh. What do yours look like?" He asked, inexplicably curious.
"You'll see." She smiled and stood. "I think I'm going to go work on them now." He could only shrug as she departed. In a far corner of his mind, a voice demanded he ask her how her brothers took the fact that he had asked her to the Ball. There were an awful lot of Weasley boys, and he didn't want to get mixed in with those protective urges, especially when his motives were as pure as a unicorn's.
Idly, Neville ran down the small list he'd prepared in his mind. His shoes were shined, his robes neat, his hair neatly slicked back. He had even made sure to leave Trevor, protesting with croaks, in the boys' dorm. Now all he had to have was his guest. Neville stood nervously near the foot of the girls' stairs, hoping that Ron wasn't looking so black and irritated because he was taking his sister. There was the sound of a throat being cleared on the stairs and he turned to look.
"Ginny!" He exclaimed in surprise. Her robes may not have been new, but they were beautiful. The antique, cream colored robes had been neatly exercised of lace, and sheets of red and orange flames wrapped themselves around the dress in near perfect embroidery. Her hair, much the same color as the flames, had been artfully pinned up in a neat bun. Neville brushed a hand self-consciously down his grey velvet robes. He had always felt the thing a little odd, but his Gran had insisted that he had at least gotten closer to looking cultured in them.
"Hey, Neville." She grinned at his expression.
"Did you-" he gestured to the robes wordlessly.
"Some." She admitted. "Mum helped when I told her I was invited to the ball. She couldn't finish in time, so I did the sleeves and the collar."
"You look great." He smiled. As she took his arm firmly in hers, he whispered in her ear. "Just say the word and I'll step out for anyone you want to dance with. You look too nice to be wasted on me."
Ginny just laughed and squeezed his hand.
"It's nice to know there's someone who thinks it looks good," she nervously smoothed the edges of the dress. "But isn't going to be thinking nasty thoughts." He stared at her, mouth hanging open in surprise. "What? You think I can have six brothers and not know what goes through guys' minds? Please!"
"I, well..." he trailed off uncertainly.
"Oh, c'mon! We don't want to be late!" She spurred him to action and they quickly left through the portrait.
They recognized several familiar faces in the crowd entering the Great Hall, but Neville's jaw dropped at one in particular. Ginny had been frantically tugging at his arm.
"Look! There she is!" She squealed.
"Who?" Neville looked at the pretty girl in blue robes that had one hand delicately laid on Krum's. Ginny kept pointing to her.
"Don't you recognize her? That's Hermione!"
"What? No!"
"I just can't believe Krum asked her!" Ginny gushed. "Who would have thought, eh?"
"Who would have thought that her hair could look like that?" Neville replied, still goggling.
"Now I know *you're* not enamored," Ginny gave him a wink. "So you can tell me your honest opinion. Did we do a good job or what?"
"We?" He asked mildly.
"Well, we swapped ideas back and forth. She had the robes, but she didn't know what to do about her hair so I suggested a potion. And she's the one who gave me the idea for my robes." Ginny let her fingers trail over the elaborate stitching.
"Both very good ideas." Neville told her, holding out a chair for her. He grinned slightly at her surprise. "Etiquette lessons. Gran insisted, but I warn you now I failed miserably when they tried to teach me how to dance." Ginny giggled.
"That's fine; maybe I can teach you. I'm an okay dancer."
"Well, no one can say I didn't warn you." He picked up one of the menus by his plate and skimmed through it. "I wonder how you're supposed to do this?"
"Don't know." She replied cheerfully. He made as though to say something, but she shushed him, gazing at Prof. Dumbledore.
"Pork chops." Dumbledore said, very clearly, to his plate.
"Oh!" Ginny gasped as they appeared.
"So that's how..." Neville murmured, looking over the menu again.
"Um, roast. Please." Ginny spoke to her plate and was pleasantly surprised to find it worked. Neville frowned at the menu. He sighed, shrugged resignedly, and ordered,
"Pork chops."
The food, like every year, was stunning. Neville wondered to himself how it was that it seemed to get better every year. He watched, pitying, as Harry seemed to be towed onto the dance floor by his date. Harry looked about as awkward as he had felt in those awful dance lessons. When Ginny stood, excited, he didn't hesitate to follow. Maybe his own dismal skill would put the rest of the Gryffindors in a better light.
As they swirled around the dance floor to some fast paced tune by the Weird Sisters, Neville caught glimpses of his fellow students. Hermione looked positively glowing as Viktor swirled her around the dance floor, and Neville found he was very happy for her. He almost laughed when he saw Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson. Malfoy looked like he had swallowed a bug and it was trying to come back up as Pansy pressed closer and closer to him. Finally, McGonagall broke them apart, back to the proper distance from each other, before being dragged into a dance by Ludo Bagman. Ginny giggled and he turned to see Prof. Dumbledore and Prof. Sprout doing an exuburant jig. Neville's concentration slipped, and he accidentally trod on her feet again.
"Sorry." He whispered, as Ginny sighed. When the music ended, she pulled Neville from the dance floor, knowing her feet would ache in the morning. After fetching two bottles of butterbeer, Neville sighed with relief as she sat. He was really rather wretched at dancing and thanked the stars that Ginny was so patient.
"You know," Ginny mussed, staring across the floor at Ron. "I think it would have been worth it to come just to see him brood over her."
"What?" Neville furrowed his brow in confusion.
"Ron and Hermione, of course!" Ginny exclaimed. "They're bound to get together one day." Neville stared at her a moment, then chuckled.
"Why so romantic lately, Gin? Seems that's all you can think about. I mean, first Colin, then Ron and Hermione." Neville couldn't help it, he laughed again.
"It's not funny. It'll happen to you one day, you just watch!" He quieted abruptly. She blushed, looked off, ruing that she'd said anything.
"I... I hope." He whispered. Ginny turned back to him abruptly.
"Neville Longbottom, I don't doubt it and you shouldn't either! There's someone out there for everyone." She took his hand. "But right now isn't the time to talk about things like that. Now, I'm bound and determined that by the end of the night, we'll have been through one dance without any stepping on feet!"
He laughed, shook his head, and let himself be drawn back onto the floor, knowing that it would be impossible but willing to try. She had accepted what he considered to be his deepest secret, after all, what were a few graceless turns around the dance floor in comparison?
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A/N: Well, there you have it. My version of Neville and Ginny going to the ball. By the way, this goes along with the "Does He Have A Heart?" series. I didn't mean to do this one, it just sort of happened. Thanks again to Barabra for betaing, and thanks for all the lovely reviews I've gotten! And yes, I *am* working on part 5, for anyone who's interested.
Author: Eloria (Nomad_Eloria@hotmail.com)
Rating: PG for homosexuality
Archive: If you really want to, go right ahead!
Feedback: Offlist/Onlist, either.
Summary: Neville and Ginny go to the Yule Ball, but first he tells her something very important. Goes along with the "Does He Have A Heart?" series. (Homosexuality)
Disclaimer: Not mine, and JK might be disturbed with what I've done to poor Neville!
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Graceless Turns
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"Ginny, before you accept, there's something I need to tell you. I-" he closed his eyes, took a steadying breath. "I hope that it won't make any difference to you, but if, if it does, then I..." Neville paused, frowned, shook his head. He scribbled out the line with his quill, and muttered under his breath. "No, no, not right. She might not even accept, you lunkhead!""
"I've been keeping something from you, from everyone really, and I think I need to tell you now." He nodded to himself a little. "I'll understand if you no longer want to be friends, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone else."
He bowed his head a little, set down the quill. His hand had been shaking and spreading drops of ink everywhere and he figured this to be a bad sign.
"Why am I doing this?" He whispered to himself. "I should just, just go alone." He gave a sour little laugh. "It's what everyone expects anyway. Don't want to disappoint them, now do we?"
"Disappoint who?" A little voice said from behind him. He lurched out of the chair and whirled around. Ginny Weasley stood there, looking at him with surprise. One hand clenched her bathrobe shut, the other was awkwardly outstretched towards him. Her hair was slightly mused and sticking out at all angles. She looked at him, her soft eyes filled with concern.
"Your Gran again?" She asked.
"What?" He stammered.
"You were talking about disappointing someone, your Gran?"
"I, er, yes, her, too." Puzzled, she gestured that he should take his chair. She sat across the small table.
"I heard Ron muttering about that test Snape's giving. Is that what has you worried?" She murmured, stretching out a hand to pluck up one of the sheets of parchment on the table. He hurriedly gathered them all up, clutching them to his chest. Ginny gave him another odd look and he smiled weakly.
"I really should be studying for it." He agreed.
"You're not?" Ginny seemed surprised. She gestured to the papers in his arms. "So what's got you sitting down here when everyone else is in bed?"
"Just writing a letter." He muttered, hating the blush creeping up his cheeks.
"To who?"
"Um, y-you." He stuttered. If anything, no one could accuse him of dishonesty.
"Me?" She spluttered. "But I'm right here!"
"Yes." He agreed, not wanting to say that was the problem.
"Well, why don't you just tell me?" Ginny demanded, exasperated. He wiggled uncomfortably in his chair.
"I... well, I, I wanted to practice a bit."
"Practice?" Utter disbelief. "What do you need to *practice* saying to me?"
"Um," Was it possible for him to blush even more? Apparently so. "Why don't I just finish the letter and then give it to you?" He suggested.
"I'd really like it if you just told me." She said, perhaps a bit frostily.
He sighed. Where was his Gryffindor bravery now? He should just ask her, and then, if she accepted, he would tell her. If she said no, there was no reason she needed to know. Well, except that she was his best friend. Except that they told each other everything. Except- ahrg! Just say it!
"Ginny, do you want to go to the ball?" He said it so softly it was hard to hear. She gaped at him.
"What?" He didn't say anything. "I thought you were going to ask Hermione!"
"She's going with someone else."
"WHAT?" Ginny goggled. He gestured for her to lower her voice.
"I asked," Neville explained, "But she said she was going with someone."
"Oh." She blinked, looked down at the table top, then looked back up at him. "Why'd you ask me, then?"
"Because you're my friend." He had thought it obvious, and was tempted to roll his eyes. "And I know you really wanted to go."
"Oh." The silence drew on and on. If only she'd just say yes or no and stop drawing out this agony! Abruptly, she asked,
"Just your friend?"
He hadn't been expecting that. That treacherous, cowardly part of him wished that she would just say no, and they could both go back to how things had been. His mouth was so dry, he was sure there was a small desert in there. A few rapid breaths, to build his courage.
"Ginny. Ginny, I won't *ever* be anything but your friend. I," Words flashed through his mind, most of them vulgar. He could only think of a few decent names for it and those names frightened him. They were, a, a label of sorts. He'd had enough of those. "I just don't look at girls that way." She gasped, getting his point right away.
"You, Neville, you're g-gay?" He felt his breath catch in his chest and nodded, looking down at the tabletop, unaware of how desperately he was clutching the papers to his chest.
"Oh." Her voice shook a little, and a faint blush stained her cheeks.
"Look Ginny, I'm sorry, I just, I just wanted to make sure you knew that I'm not interested in that way. I mean, you're my friend, you're my best friend, and you're nice and all. I'm sure that you've got all kinds of admirers, but I don't, I won't, think about you as anything other than, than a friend. I 'm really sorry, I just..." he realized he was stammering and stood quickly. "I'll just go then."
"Neville, wait, what are you leaving for?" She stood, too.
"I thought, I thought you wouldn't want me around." He hung his head a little, unable to meet her gaze.
"Don't be silly, Nev, just sit back down, will you? I just need a minute to digest this."
"All right." He thumped heavily into the chair he had just vacated.
"Why'd you ask us, me and Hermione, if you're um, gay?" She blurted, then covered her mouth with her hands. "I'm sorry that was really rude, I-"
"No, no it's fine, really." She was taking this much better than he had expected. The least he could do was answer one question. "I um, asked, Hermione because, well, she'd been really nice to me. Helped me out with Potions and classes, and well," he leaned back in the chair, staring at some point in space over his head. "I didn't think anyone else would. Not that nobody would want to take her or anything, just that they might not ask. I would have told her, too, if she'd said yes. And you," he looked at her. "Well, we're friends, Gin, and I-"
"So it's not like, not like you're hiding, right?" She blushed furiously. "I mean, I don't think I'd want to go if that's the only reason you asked."
"Hiding?" He repeated, puzzled.
"You know," she gestured vaguely with one hand. "To um, make people think that..."
"I'm normal. Oh." He blushed, again, just when the last had faded. "I wouldn't do that to you, or her!"
"I believe you, really I do." Ginny assured him. "But isn't there anyone, er, male? I mean, that's who'd *I'd* think to go with if I was you." He laughed nervously, relaxing his death grip on the papers.
"Do you really think Dumbledore would let something like that happen here?" Neville frowned and held up a hand as she tried to talk. "If Prof. Lupin had to leave because of what he is, and he was the best we've had, then what do you think parents would say about someone like me?" He whispered, flicking a nervous glance at the boys' stairs. "I don't want them all to hate me."
"Prof. Dumbledore *hired* Prof. Lupin, Neville. He doesn't see anything wrong with being different."
"Well, if not him, then one of the other professors. Snape, he doesn't like me much as is, and I can't imagine him being any nicer once he found out. And... Malfoy." Neville shuddered at the thought.
"Oh." Ginny said quietly. She hadn't really thought that far ahead. "I think I can understand now. I would really like to go with you to the dance."
"Really?" He asked, surprised.
"Of course." She playfully slapped at his shoulder. "I'd never get invited any other way." He tensed slightly.
"If you're still thinking about Harry, then I, I could maybe drop a hint at him for you, or-"
"Don't." Ginny told him firmly. "That was just a silly crush." She blushed a little.
"Have you really..." he trailed off, uncertain. This didn't seem to be exactly as he remembered her pining over Harry. "Someone else?" He suggested. She nodded a little and he grinned at her. "Who?"
"Colin." More blushing.
"Really?"
"He's cute." Ginny said, almost defensively. An idea came to her and her eyes sparkled with mischief. Anyone who saw would have been greatly reminded of her twin brothers. "Neville," she almost purred. "Now we can talk all about boys!" He blushed a furious red, almost achieving the famed Weasley color but not quite. His cheeks had never burned as much as they had this night.
"What!"
"Oh, come on! I'm curious! I mean," she wrinkled her nose in puzzlement. "What do you think about the guys here?"
"Gin!" He exclaimed, sinking deeper into his seat.
"Okay, okay, I won't ask. But... let's make a promise," she grinned mischievously. "I'll tell you all about my first kiss and you'll tell me all about yours."
"I haven't ever-" he protested.
"But I know you will one day, and I want to know all the details." Her eyes glittered dangerously. "That's the price of my silence, Nev. All you've got to do is promise..." He sighed and reluctantly swore. She stood and threw her arms around him in an exuberant hug.
"I'm glad you could get this off your chest." She muttered and he patted her back awkwardly.
"Thanks for, well, not freaking out." Ginny smiled a little as she released him.
"How could I, Nev? You're my best friend! But we better both get back to bed before someone comes down. Heaven knows what kind of rumors it could start." He laughed.
"G'night then." The papers from earlier became a neat stack that he threw into the fire with a wink at Ginny. She waved at him, strolling calmly to the stairs. He stood for a moment, making sure the unfinished letters burned.
"Oh, and Neville?" She looked back down the stairs, over her shoulder at him and he looked up at her. "It'll be just you and me, right? No Trevor?"
"Of course." He smiled at her. "But I still don't understand why you don't like him, Ginny."
"It's just... he seems kind of, well, like he knows a lot more than you'd think a toad would." Neville shrugged.
"Well, Great-Uncle Algie was reluctant to say where he got him, but he's just a toad, Ginny." She made a small noise of disagreement and disappeared. He stood for a moment, feeling oddly giddy. He had actually told someone what he realized long ago and hadn't been hated for it. It felt like an iron band, wrapped around his chest, had suddenly broken. With a little smile, he hurried upstairs. If he had any luck at all, he still had a little time to study for his Potions test.
Looking utterly miserable, Ginny slumped into a seat beside Neville. He looked at her curiously, fork dangling limply from his fingers as he did.
"What's the matter?"
"Ron." She sighed. "He didn't know I was going to the dance with you, and he suggested I go with Harry-"
"Oh." Neville nodded. "All right then. I was thinking of maybe going out to Greenhouse 3 and repotting a few Flying Francescas if something like this happened and-"
"Neville," she frowned at him. "I didn't say I was going with him! And it can't be good for you to spend all your time with plants."
"Why not?" He asked defensively.
"Because you don't spend enough time with people as it is." He shot a guilty look around him at his fellow Gryffindors. "Hey!" Ginny exclaimed, an idea brewing in her mind. "Do you fancy any of the Gryffindors? Is that why you're staying away from Ron and Harry and the rest?"
"What?" He burst out. "No!"
"So why is it then?" She continued relentlessly.
"It's just... Ron and Harry are such good friends, and Dean and Seamus are too, I don't want to intrude."
"So... Who do you like? And don't try to bluff me out, Nev." The girl had a one-track mind! He took a deep breath and mumbled something.
"What?"
"Justin. He's... nice."
"Finch-Fletchley? The Hufflepuff?" She exclaimed.
"Shhh!" He blushed, catching Fred and George throwing funny looks their way. They turned away, whispering, and Neville fidgeted. Who knew what those two were up to?
"Is he?" Ginny arched a brow.
"What? How would I know! I've only worked with him in Herbology a few times!"
"I just thought you might have asked." He tried not to faint.
"No, I have not!"
"Okay, okay, don't get so upset! I was just wondering."
"Well, wonder quietly will you?" Ginny chuckled but nodded.
"What are you wearing to the Ball?" She asked, suddenly.
"My dress robes, what else?" Neville replied, puzzled.
"I mean what color are they?"
"Dark grey." He made a face. "Gran said they made me look more dignified."
"Hmm." Ginny mused, tapping a spoon on the table. "I think it'll be ok."
"What?"
"*My* robes!"
"Oh. What do yours look like?" He asked, inexplicably curious.
"You'll see." She smiled and stood. "I think I'm going to go work on them now." He could only shrug as she departed. In a far corner of his mind, a voice demanded he ask her how her brothers took the fact that he had asked her to the Ball. There were an awful lot of Weasley boys, and he didn't want to get mixed in with those protective urges, especially when his motives were as pure as a unicorn's.
Idly, Neville ran down the small list he'd prepared in his mind. His shoes were shined, his robes neat, his hair neatly slicked back. He had even made sure to leave Trevor, protesting with croaks, in the boys' dorm. Now all he had to have was his guest. Neville stood nervously near the foot of the girls' stairs, hoping that Ron wasn't looking so black and irritated because he was taking his sister. There was the sound of a throat being cleared on the stairs and he turned to look.
"Ginny!" He exclaimed in surprise. Her robes may not have been new, but they were beautiful. The antique, cream colored robes had been neatly exercised of lace, and sheets of red and orange flames wrapped themselves around the dress in near perfect embroidery. Her hair, much the same color as the flames, had been artfully pinned up in a neat bun. Neville brushed a hand self-consciously down his grey velvet robes. He had always felt the thing a little odd, but his Gran had insisted that he had at least gotten closer to looking cultured in them.
"Hey, Neville." She grinned at his expression.
"Did you-" he gestured to the robes wordlessly.
"Some." She admitted. "Mum helped when I told her I was invited to the ball. She couldn't finish in time, so I did the sleeves and the collar."
"You look great." He smiled. As she took his arm firmly in hers, he whispered in her ear. "Just say the word and I'll step out for anyone you want to dance with. You look too nice to be wasted on me."
Ginny just laughed and squeezed his hand.
"It's nice to know there's someone who thinks it looks good," she nervously smoothed the edges of the dress. "But isn't going to be thinking nasty thoughts." He stared at her, mouth hanging open in surprise. "What? You think I can have six brothers and not know what goes through guys' minds? Please!"
"I, well..." he trailed off uncertainly.
"Oh, c'mon! We don't want to be late!" She spurred him to action and they quickly left through the portrait.
They recognized several familiar faces in the crowd entering the Great Hall, but Neville's jaw dropped at one in particular. Ginny had been frantically tugging at his arm.
"Look! There she is!" She squealed.
"Who?" Neville looked at the pretty girl in blue robes that had one hand delicately laid on Krum's. Ginny kept pointing to her.
"Don't you recognize her? That's Hermione!"
"What? No!"
"I just can't believe Krum asked her!" Ginny gushed. "Who would have thought, eh?"
"Who would have thought that her hair could look like that?" Neville replied, still goggling.
"Now I know *you're* not enamored," Ginny gave him a wink. "So you can tell me your honest opinion. Did we do a good job or what?"
"We?" He asked mildly.
"Well, we swapped ideas back and forth. She had the robes, but she didn't know what to do about her hair so I suggested a potion. And she's the one who gave me the idea for my robes." Ginny let her fingers trail over the elaborate stitching.
"Both very good ideas." Neville told her, holding out a chair for her. He grinned slightly at her surprise. "Etiquette lessons. Gran insisted, but I warn you now I failed miserably when they tried to teach me how to dance." Ginny giggled.
"That's fine; maybe I can teach you. I'm an okay dancer."
"Well, no one can say I didn't warn you." He picked up one of the menus by his plate and skimmed through it. "I wonder how you're supposed to do this?"
"Don't know." She replied cheerfully. He made as though to say something, but she shushed him, gazing at Prof. Dumbledore.
"Pork chops." Dumbledore said, very clearly, to his plate.
"Oh!" Ginny gasped as they appeared.
"So that's how..." Neville murmured, looking over the menu again.
"Um, roast. Please." Ginny spoke to her plate and was pleasantly surprised to find it worked. Neville frowned at the menu. He sighed, shrugged resignedly, and ordered,
"Pork chops."
The food, like every year, was stunning. Neville wondered to himself how it was that it seemed to get better every year. He watched, pitying, as Harry seemed to be towed onto the dance floor by his date. Harry looked about as awkward as he had felt in those awful dance lessons. When Ginny stood, excited, he didn't hesitate to follow. Maybe his own dismal skill would put the rest of the Gryffindors in a better light.
As they swirled around the dance floor to some fast paced tune by the Weird Sisters, Neville caught glimpses of his fellow students. Hermione looked positively glowing as Viktor swirled her around the dance floor, and Neville found he was very happy for her. He almost laughed when he saw Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson. Malfoy looked like he had swallowed a bug and it was trying to come back up as Pansy pressed closer and closer to him. Finally, McGonagall broke them apart, back to the proper distance from each other, before being dragged into a dance by Ludo Bagman. Ginny giggled and he turned to see Prof. Dumbledore and Prof. Sprout doing an exuburant jig. Neville's concentration slipped, and he accidentally trod on her feet again.
"Sorry." He whispered, as Ginny sighed. When the music ended, she pulled Neville from the dance floor, knowing her feet would ache in the morning. After fetching two bottles of butterbeer, Neville sighed with relief as she sat. He was really rather wretched at dancing and thanked the stars that Ginny was so patient.
"You know," Ginny mussed, staring across the floor at Ron. "I think it would have been worth it to come just to see him brood over her."
"What?" Neville furrowed his brow in confusion.
"Ron and Hermione, of course!" Ginny exclaimed. "They're bound to get together one day." Neville stared at her a moment, then chuckled.
"Why so romantic lately, Gin? Seems that's all you can think about. I mean, first Colin, then Ron and Hermione." Neville couldn't help it, he laughed again.
"It's not funny. It'll happen to you one day, you just watch!" He quieted abruptly. She blushed, looked off, ruing that she'd said anything.
"I... I hope." He whispered. Ginny turned back to him abruptly.
"Neville Longbottom, I don't doubt it and you shouldn't either! There's someone out there for everyone." She took his hand. "But right now isn't the time to talk about things like that. Now, I'm bound and determined that by the end of the night, we'll have been through one dance without any stepping on feet!"
He laughed, shook his head, and let himself be drawn back onto the floor, knowing that it would be impossible but willing to try. She had accepted what he considered to be his deepest secret, after all, what were a few graceless turns around the dance floor in comparison?
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A/N: Well, there you have it. My version of Neville and Ginny going to the ball. By the way, this goes along with the "Does He Have A Heart?" series. I didn't mean to do this one, it just sort of happened. Thanks again to Barabra for betaing, and thanks for all the lovely reviews I've gotten! And yes, I *am* working on part 5, for anyone who's interested.